Friday, August 04, 2006

Elizabeth Hasselbeck can eat my dick.

Look at this.
Sorry, it's the view

Two issues here. The final one is how Elizabeth Hasselback can eat my dick. But first, there's how Joy Behar and Barbara Walters don't understand how emergency contraception works.

Barbara Walters isn't quite clear on how EC works. It prevents the fertilization of an ovum by sperm, primarily. It does that by preventing ovulation. It may also, in some cases prevent implantation of a fertilized egg. (Not, technically known as an embryo at that stage).

Joy Behar reveals, in a very stilted attempt at a light-hearted monologue, that she doesn't really have a very good idea of how human reproduction works. She starts to say that she can have sex on a monday, and prevent conception on thursday...the implication is that conception must occur during or immediately after the sex act, and thus, even on thursday, EC must interrupt a life already in progress. And that is why people believe that Plan B is an abortifacient.

It's not.

Everybody who saw "Look Who's Talking", raise your hand. Now, I want you to put your hand back down, and take a deep breath. What you saw over those opening credits, narrated by the very soothing voice of Bruce Willis, was not a scientifically accurate portrait of how conception occurs. Let the betrayal recede for a moment. I'm sure thatAmy Heckerling didn't mean to mislead you. It's just more cinematic that way.

Conception can occur days after coitus. And, mostly, it does. Because that's the way we're designed. I'll tell you why:

Chimp Balls.

Chimps have enormous balls. Gorillas have little balls. They indicate that chimps are polygynandrous, and gorillas are polygamous. Humans have medium balls. And, importantly, human females show no physical indication that ovulation is occuring. That allows both men and women to be sluts. So women can have sex all the time, with multiple partners, while no partner knows for sure that she was ovulating during their time together. Which is why human men don't eat babies. (infanticide is a really bad idea if you don't know which offspring are yours) But Elizabeth Hasselbeck does.

Anyway, if Amy Heckerling had wanted to accurately show conception, she'd have had Kirstie Alley go home from having sex with her boss, make dinner, take a shower, go to sleep, wake up, drink some coffee, go shopping- two or three days worth of activity intercut with sperm bushwacking through her cerivical mucus. Finally, perhaps when she's sitting at her desk the next day, a big round egg busts through, rolls down the fallopian tube, and collides with some bored sperm who've been there a while. Maybe they could be cartoon sperm, with little watches. Sitting on a bench or something. Eating gyros.

But how does that work? Weren't we told at rhythm method school that the fertile period is very short, and that the egg doesn't last for very long, and that the vagina, cervix, and uterus are hostile to sperm?

Sure, buddy. And if you buy that, I've got some transubstantiation to sell you.

That's what was assumed for a long time. Because sperm are fairly delicate. By the time the porn star wipes her face, those little guys are more than on their way to certain death. And, the vagina can be a turbulent, hostile hell-hole for sperm. Most of the time.

The vaginal and cervical environment changes. Because it's wily. Because it can't fucking be trusted. Most of the time the cervix is all clotted up with gross ucky mucus, and the vagina has a PH that kills sperm. But, for a period preceding ovulation that can be as long as 10 days in some women, the cervical mucus changes. The vagina becomes welcoming. Instead of killing sperm, the whole system becomes very nurturing.

For the hostile vagina, cervix, and uterus, I want you to picture the Vietnam War of tons of movies I havent' seen. It's mucky. People are angry. Death is all around. You need a machete to get through the swamp. Your best friend, Tex, dies right beside you. You're bleeding and starving, waiting for an airlift that will never come.

For the nurturing vagina, cervix, and uterus, I want you to picture the yellow brick road. Everyone is pleasent. The sun is shining. You've got a path right to where you're going. It doesn't matter if you take your time at the Emerald City. Everything is going to be fine.

That's how it is.

But people still think that conception is a car accident. Shit! Sperm ran a red light! Hit the egg! That's LIFE! Can't undo that! When, really, emergency contraception could step in, slow motion, and put jersey barriers in so that the egg doesn't even make it to the intersection.

The second issue is: Elizabeth Hasselbeck has no idea what she's talking about.
"That's like having a baby and leaving it on the street."
Elizabeth, you're full of shit. You're less than a talking head. Furthermore, you're really shitty at being pro-life. It's better to have a baby and leave it on the street, because someone else can pick it up and take care of it. If you believe that fertilized egg=baby, because that's what Jesus said, then it's much WORSE to eject six or eight or thirty cells, because they die somewhere in your grody vagina without even a funeral.

Furthermore, if you believe fertilized egg=baby, absolutely, completely, morally, every time, then you should actually be encouraging more women to use hormonal contraceptives perfectly, and only refrain from hormonal contraception when they are trying to concieve, and then for the shortest time possible, and only after serious, in-depth medical and genetic screening.

Because about half of all 'pregnancies' as measured by fertilized ova, end either before, or very soon after they are detectable. It's natural. Not all fertilized eggs become babies, even when no action is taken to prevent them from becoming babies. And, if you're a religious person, that's got to make you wonder whether god would shoot souls from his holy-ghost powered soul cannon just to have half of them die unnamed, without a gender, without nerves or memories or childhood pets, ending up smeared on sweaty, store-brand kotex, and tossed into bathroom trash with Q-tips and empty tubes of depilatory .

I don't know if I'm religious or not. But if I were, I certainly wouldn't believe that. It's just a bad system. If I were religious, I think I'd trust that god shoots the soul in right before the brain becomes capable of consciousness. It's just thrifty that way. Shows that he's thinking ahead.

Anyway, Elizabeth Hasselbeck isn't required to believe what I think it's sensible for her to believe. But she is kindly invited to eat my dick.

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